India Journal: Which Type of Society Do We Want to Be?

What would you do if you got into a disagreement over someone’s point of view?

Rupa Subramanya Dahejia

I would imagine there would be a passionate debate and discussion, an exchange of ideas, and a meeting of the minds would follow. In addition, in India, any worthwhile discussion would have to include raised voices with arms flailing, launching the occasional personal insult, talking at each other, and shouting the other person down.

We’re a passionate and emotional people and sometimes the visceral wins over the cerebral. As long as we’re engaged in the process of deliberation and living up to our reputation as “argumentative” Indians, the manner in which we communicate our views is less important. However, when we resort to banning works of creativity, destroying public property and vandalism, the argumentative Indian becomes mute, and debate is silenced.

The recent uproar against the Supreme Court’s refusal to ban James Laine’s book, “Shivaji — the Hindu King in Muslim India,” thereby upholding a 2007 high court decision, led to widespread protests and the burning of Mr. Laine’s effigy in Maharashtra. The controversy first flared up in 2004, over Mr. Laine’s characterization of Shivaji which, in the eyes of the critics, called into question his stature as a leader of Hindu resistance to Muslim rule in 17th century India.

Mr. Laine’s point was that we must distinguish the historical Shivaji and the legend that has grown up around him and been used as a vehicle of political mobilization by advocates of the Hindu cause. Some of Mr. Laine’s most passionate critics at the time when the row first arose responded by vandalizing the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute in Pune, where Mr. Laine had spent some time researching his book. In the aftermath of the Supreme Court ruling, Maharashtra’s chief minister indicated that the researchers who helped with the book would be investigated and a three-member committee has been formed to advise the government on the legal options available to prevent the book from entering the market. This shouldn’t be a problem as the book’s publisher has said that, despite the court ruling, it has no intention of distributing the book in Maharashtra.

Several things jump out. First, interestingly enough, is that the law seems to be working in upholding the removal of the ban, albeit six years later. But second, the book is not going to be made available because another species of law, called the law of the mob, has made it clear that the book should not be available to the reading public, Supreme Court ruling or not. This type of law often has co-existed uneasily with the official law in our short history as an independent republic and liberal democracy. Third is the attempt to ban the book in a digital and globalized world. Anyone in Maharashtra wanting to read it in the last five years could have ordered it from Amazon, but he would have to pay $60 plus a steep shipping charge to India.

Reflecting on this episode and many other instances, what emerges is the issue of censorship and its evil step-sister, self-censorship. While both are problematic, censorship is regulated by the law of the land which makes its use relatively infrequent. Self-censorship, on the other hand, falls under the shadow of the law of the mob.

Examples of the former are quantifiable in a democracy like India and a matter of public record. Instances of self-censorship are impossible to measure. When one chooses to remain silent out of fear, we have no way of knowing if what was not said would have turned out to be a meaningless rant or a great work of art. Either way, the more often we’re censored or forced to censor ourselves, we lose some texture and richness as a society. An intellectual debate led by Mr. Laine`s critics that explored Shivaji, the man and the legend, would have well served the public good. Instead, open and free debate has been short-circuited by the sound and fury surrounding the banning of the book and what has followed.

As far as censorship goes, there are far worse offenders than India. China or Singapore comes immediately to mind. On self-censorship, again India is by no means unique in this, even among democracies. On North American university campuses, which are supposed to be bastions of free speech, I’ve seen many instances of self-censorship driven by the culture of political correctness.

Nonetheless, in the U.S., despite the prevalent social conservatism and Puritanism, at a basic level freedom of speech and expression seem to be protected. As an example, in a deeply religious country, the comedian Bill Maher was able to make a successful film espousing his atheistic views and mocking religious beliefs. He continues to have a successful TV show and performs as a comedian, often airing these views, without fear of his work being banned. Back in India, a fear that I’ve sensed among liberal-minded Indians is that recent events such as the Shivaji book controversy put us on a slippery slope toward becoming an Orwellian state ruled by the thought thugs.

As history teaches us, societies that are marked by a culture of conformism in which disagreement with prevailing orthodoxies is silenced tend to stagnate in the long run and are left behind in the modern world. Those that foster a healthy and lively exchange of ideas and arguments that nurture creativity and innovation, without requiring a consensus on everything, tend to flourish and grow.

Which type of society do we want to be?

–Rupa Subramanya Dehejia lives in Mumbai and is a frequent India Journal contributor.

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